Untitled
by lux ex tenebris
Summary: Read it or don't - I don't care too much right now.


It had only been a matter of time, she knew that. She had started noticing the signs more than a year ago and it had been nothing more than a long a painful process since then. Had it been her fault? Had she done something wrong? Just when exactly did things become so entirely hopeless?

She had given _her_ everything she had - money, time, her love. _She_ had always had her everything, her heart, her soul. And let's not forget about her sanity. That, too she had given away for the woman she used to call hers.

In the beginning things were amazing. They were happy together, even though by now she had to wonder if her partner had ever really been content and happy around her. Had it all been a farce just like the past fourteen months of the relationship? No, no, no. That couldn't be it or could it?

Her head was a complete mess by now. Then again it had been for a while now. Doubts, distrust, scheming and lies everywhere.

She could not deny that she, too, had been lying at certain points. Maybe that had been it? She tried keeping things away from _her_ that could have harmed _her_, maybe she was being too cautious around _her_?

Not that it mattered anymore anyways. She had no way left to talk to _her_, though there were so many things left unsaid. She didn't even know why she suddenly had been completely shut out. It had seemed that _she_ enjoyed the little game of cat and mouse they had going on for the past while now.

She had never been enough for _her_ and by now she was painfully aware of that. Since the first day _she_ had left her wondering just how she deserved a person like _her_. Maybe _she _had realized it as well and cut all ties because of that? She'd never know.

And it hurt so fucking much. She'd known _she_'d be breaking up with her since _she_ started acting all different starting last February. So by now, fourteen months later, shouldn't it stop hurting already? Apparently not. Apparently that's how it's supposed to be. Painful, confusing and ever-so terrifying.

When had been the last time she'd been able to hold _her_? When was the last time they kissed? Just when exactly had been the last time they fucking just had a real talk?

She couldn't remember, for her life she couldn't remember. And that, too, hurt. Should she have acted earlier?

It seemed like _she_ needed her space for a while, though - after all her life had been turned upside down. So she'd been patient, she'd waited for _her_ to approach her, to say she wanted her to be around _her_ again.

It never happened. Not even once. While _she_ still somewhat kept her around, _she_ kept her at an arm's length away. Never too close, yet never too far away. Just what the hell was that supposed to mean? She didn't know. She couldn't know, since _she_ would never tell her even if she asked.

_The topic _would always be avoided, changed if she dared bringing it up. That, too, had probably been a sign.

Then again, love makes blind, doesn't it? So maybe she could just blame that for not being able to see the subtle changes before things even got as bad as they were by now.

Honestly, she was at a loss. Everything had always been about _her_. Her plans, her current life - just everything.

She was living a life she did not want, she had been doing things she never wanted to. And what for? All for _her_. Everything had always been just for _her_.

Now she was sitting on her bed, staring at her phone waiting for _any sign_ that _she_ might actually just be joking around.

Even if it had been a lie - her last incredulous story that had just been the tip of the iceberg - she would forgive her. Just like she always had.

Had it become a possession, the way she would forgive everything _she_ did to her? A disease? No, no that could not be it, either.

It was love, is what it was. If it was healthy for either of them, she could not tell, did not want to tell. After all that would mean admitting that something had gone terribly wrong.

Once again she found herself throw her phone away angrily just to pick it up right after to not miss the message she'd probably never receive anyway.

Not too long ago they had this awkward conversation - about happiness. _She_'d told her that at one point _she_ had - indeed - been happy. Neither specified when. She'd been to scared to ask if it had actually been with herself while _she_ would never really bring up just when it had been.

Was it wrong to hope that it had actually been the time the two of them were just two idiots in love? How she wished she could turn back time right now.

Then again, what could one do differently? She could not think of a specific point where she fucked up so bad that _she_ could have come to hate her. Then again, maybe just maybe it had been all of the little things. A million drops of water could accumulate to something as well after all, could they not?

She didn't know. She wasn't even sure if she wanted to know. Probably not. She'd probably just hate herself even more if she knew. Knowing is a dangerous thing after all.

She also had no idea just why _she_ suddenly blocked all ways of communications last night while she'd been asleep. Would she ever know? Only time could tell.

So, taking a deep breath she took her position on the bed once again, phone in hand while waiting for any kind of sign that she indeed was still wanted in _her_ life.


End file.
